Angels in the Outfield, WAY Outfield
by vsmarmo
Summary: Sam and Dean head to Indiana to investigate a series of miraculous healings but are in for a shock when they realize who's behind it all.
1. Chapter 1

Two woman sit on the reception desk in a crowded ICU. No one seems to mind or even acknowledge the heavy-set African-American woman and petite red-head who don't seem like they belong there. "Ahh, Tess," the young woman says with a sweet smile and a gentle Irish accent. "I just _love_ hospitals, don't you? It's a place of faith, a place of healing, a place where lives are brought _into _this world and where they're lovingly carried into the next." The African-American woman laughs. "Angel-girl, there are a _lot_ of people in this world who don't share your fondness of hospitals. Human beings, you see, tend to remember the _bad_ more than the _good. _And, baby, if you don't have faith, a hospital sure can seem like a lot of _bad."_

Suddenly, a man in a white suit and long hair starts walking up the hallway toward the two women. "Monica, Tess," he says with a smile. "Andrew," Monica answers, returning his smile. "Hey, Angel-Boy, making your rounds, I see," Tess says, giving him a hug. Andrew's humor fades slightly. "Actually, I was just called-off." Monica's brow furrowed at his words. "I wouldn't think that the angel of death has many vacation days."

"I don't usually have any," Andrew says with a shrug. "But I wasn't exactly 'called-off' more than reassigned." Tess' face shows confusion, an expression it doesn't usually betray. "Reassigned? Reassigned to where?" she asks.  
"No, I'm still assigned _here_, just in a different capacity."

"What kind of capacity?" Monica asks, unsure why a bad feeling has just creeped into the pit of her stomach.

"He didn't say."

"Who didn't say?" Tess asks with suspicion in her voice.

"I'm not sure. But I assume he's one of the higher-ups. Here he comes now," Andrew says, pointing to the man coming up the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

"Here's something," Sam said, looking up at Dean from his laptop.

"What, a case?" Dean asked, coming up next to him. "Good, I'm getting stir-crazy in here."  
"I'm not sure. But I think so," Sam answered, looking at his computer screen. "Apparently, there's this ICU ward in Munster, Indiana. One or two of the patients everyday seem to be undergoing some type of miraculous healing. People waking up from comas, people with severe brain injuries showing no sign of it the next day, people whose internal bleeding literally disappears overnight. People are calling it the 'miracle ward.' It's almost like-"

"Someone's binding a reaper," Dean said, finishing his sentence.

"That's what it looks like. You know, if we're dealing with a reaper, we might want to call Cass on this one."

Dean shook his head. "Nah, the guy's got his own problems. Besides, we can handle this ourselves. Go there, find the binding sigil, find the person doing the binding, ice them, and go home."

Sam silently shuddered at how casually Dean was talking about killing another human being. But they didn't have a choice. Whoever was behind it was killing one or two people everyday. "Fine, let's go," he said, closing his laptop.

The brothers made their way to Mother of Mercy hospital in Munster, Indiana. They suited up and began making their interviewing rounds inside the ward. Of course, Sam got stuck talking with some religious fanatic who claimed the patients were being healed "by the grace of God" and that angels were watching over them. He looked over at Dean who was talking with one of the male nurse. He could see by Dean's expression that he was enjoying himself _way_ too much, so Sam began making his way over to them. As he was walking up, he heard Dean say, "So. . .being a male nurse, I bet that gets you a lot of chicks, right?" The man looked annoyed, like he was used to getting those kinds of remarks. Sam held up his badge. "Hi, I'm Agent Tyler, Agent Perry's partner. Is there a problem here?" The man's aggravation became plain as he started talking. "Yeah, there's a problem. Tell your friend here not to insult a legitimate profession. I want to help people, just like you."

"Yeah, I'm sure you want to help us _real_ good," Dean said with a smirk.

"I'm married and have 6 kids."

"Wow, can you say 'over-compensating?' " Dean asked, turning to Sam with pure amusement on his face.

"Agent Perry, that's _enough,_" Sam said, like a parent to a misbehaving child. "Excuse me, sir," he said, turning to the nurse. "I was just wondering if the ward's always been this . . ."

"God-happy?"

"Exactly."

"Hell, no" he answered with a laugh. "The only godliness was outside on the name of the place."

Dean immediately became serious, intrigued by his answer. "What changed?" he asked.

"Now you want my help?" the man snapped.

"Sir, please," Sam said gently. "What changed?"

The man looked at Sam and sighed in concession. "These new people who started working the night shift. They're fanatics. You know, real Jesus-freaks. Then all of a sudden, all these healings started happening, and people got hooked. Or as I'm tempted to say, brain-washed."

Sam smirked. "I take it you didn't hop on the God-train then."

The man shook his head. "Not if I can help it. I was on vacation and just came back yesterday. It's like working with the Stepford Wives. It's creepy, unnatural, how happy everyone is all the time."

"Do you have the names of these people?" Sam said, pulling out a notebook.

"Sure, there's three of them. Monica, Tess, and Andrew."

"Last names?"

"As far as I know, they don't have any. I even checked their files."

Sam exchanged glances with Dean. "Um, thank you for your time. And I think that nursing is a very noble profession."

"Yeah, for girls," Dean muttered.

Sam smiled apologetically at the man and pulled Dean out by his suit jacket.


	3. Chapter 3

"Now him?" Monica asked, pointing at room 242.

"Yes, him," Andrew answered.

"How much time does he have?"

"About an hour, without our interference."

"Whose turn is it?" Monica asked nervously.

"Yours," Andrew answered calmly.

Monica didn't go in right away but stood wringing her hands. She hadn't been a case worker for very long, but she still felt that something was terribly wrong. And she couldn't understand why. They were following the Father's orders, and his orders were to heal. Monica rarely questioned her orders, and these should be even easier to follow. But she just couldn't shake that nagging feeling that she was doing something wrong. "Andrew. . ." she said, a nervous look on her face. "How do we know we can trust that man?"

"He's an angel, Monica. You felt it yourself."

"I know, but he feels. . .different, Andrew."

Andrew hesitated, as if unsure if it was wise to say what he was about to. "I know. I felt it too. But he had Heaven's light surrounding him, and that can't be faked. We just have to have faith, faith that everything we've been told to do is for a reason."

She smiled as her heart felt lighter at the word. "Right, I forgot. It's just that angels aren't used to having faith. We see everyday what _human beings_ need faith to see."

"Well, today, we learn what it means to be human," Andrew said with a comforting smile.

Monica just returned the smile and nodded, stepping into the room.

The man on the bed groaned as she came in. "Who are you?" he slurred, his brain weak from having had stroke. Monica just smiled as a warm light enveloped her. "I am an angel, sent from God," she said. Although she said that same phrase countless times before, each time she was glad to say it. She was glad to comfort people and give them a glimpse behind the dark veil of humanity into the light of God's love.

"An _angel_?" the man said, in between coughs. "Does this mean. . .I'm dying?"

"No, Mr. Hudson. Death is nothing to fear, but I'm here to tell you God loves you very much, and He is giving you more time. More time to spend with your family. More time to make up for your past mistakes. More time to realize how precious a thing life truly is," she said, leaning over and placing her hand on his. Immediately, she could feel the love flow from her body and into his, and she felt the damage from his stroke dissolve away.

"Thank you," the man said. "Thank you."

"It wasn't me," she said, still holding his hand. "It was the grace of God."

Monica stepped out of the room, proud of what she'd done. Every doubt she had dissolving away with the man's illness. Andrew was waiting for her. "Is it done?"

She nodded. "Yes. And I told him he could say an angel healed him, but he wasn't to say that it was me."

Andrew sighed in relief. "Good. Now we just have to wait."


	4. Chapter 4

"I don't know what to tell you, Dean," Sam said, looking at his notes. "It's looking less and less like a bound reaper and more and more like angel-business." Dean rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. They'd been going over this all night. "But, Sam. Angels don't go around healing people. They just don't. It tends to conflict with their whole 'destroying the world' agenda."

"Know anything else with this much juice served with a side of salvation?"

"Sure, Roy Le Grange in Nebraska."

"First of all, it was his wife doing it. Second of all, we swept that entire hospital. No reaper artifacts in sight."

Dean sighed. None of it made any sense. "So what? Angels are the good guys now? You mean they suddenly give a crap?"

Sam shrugged. "That's what thousands of years of traditionnand theology say."

"Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed during these past few years, all of that's _crap_," Dean retorted.

"Fine, maybe it is," Sam answered. "But until we come up with a better theory, that's all we got to go on. So what we have to do is figure out point-blank what we're dealing with here. I mean, it's not like demons where you can just say _Christos_ and have it all figured it out."

"Looks like we'll need help on this one," Dean quipped.

"Who? You said Cas is busy, and Bobby's on the other side of the country."

"I wasn't talking about Bobby or Cas."

"Then who?"

Dean only answered with a perverted smile.

"Her?" Sam asked. "Are you sure you're not just suggesting it because you have a thing for her?"

"Come on, Sammy," Dean said, nudging him with his elbow. "You know you like it when she talks about your butt."

Sam scoffed but didn't deny it. "Fine, give her a call."

"All _right_," Dean said, pulling out his cellphone and dialing.

"Dean Winchester. . ." the voice on the other line said. "Now what mess have you boys gotten yourselves into today?"

"Hey, Pamela," Dean answered, his grin getting wider. "We think we might have a few angels on our hands, but we're not entirely sure. And we can't exactly go around stabbing people with an angel blade. Think you can lend us a hand figuring it out?"

"Sure, sweetie," Pamela answered. "But would you mind picking me up? I've had trouble renewing my license. Just can't seem to pass the eye exam for some reason."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah. Of course. We'll be there in a few hours."

"I'll be waiting, short stuff," Pam said before hanging up the phone.


	5. Chapter 5

It was almost midnight when Sam, Dean, and Pamela pulled up to the hospital. "So, what exactly is going on here?" Pamela asked as Sam helped her out of the car.

"Frequent unnatural recoveries," Dean answered.

"And that's a bad thing because. . .?"

"Because in our experience, miracles don't come free."

"And what makes you think it's angels?"

"Because we have half a staff spreading the Good News."

"I see. Well, I'll let you boys know soon enough if you're right. Any suspects?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, pulling out his notebook. "Three. Monica, Tess, and Andrew."

Pamela's brow narrowed. "Why do those names sound so familiar?" she asked.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Do they?"

"I'm not sure. But you boys are definitely dealing with angels here."

"Are you sure?" Sam questioned.

Pam chuckled and said, "Yeah, you kind of remember what angelic energy feels like after it burns both your eyes out their sockets."

"Oh, right," Sam said with a regret on his face.

"How many?" Dean asked.

"Three. So I think it's safe to assume who they are."

"Right," Dean said. "All right, here's what we'll do. Sammy, you and Pamela go to room 203. I remember it was empty. And get a ring of holy oil ready. I'll go to nurses station and have them send-What was one of their names? Monica, right?-I'll have them send Monica down to the room. Everybody clear?"

Sam nodded, taking Pamela by the hand and walking away.

The holy oil was poured as Sam and Pamela waited in room 203. The door opened, and Sam reached into his coat and put his hand on his lighter but relaxed when he saw it was Dean. "Nice. Glad I beat her here," Dean said, checking the floor. "All right, everything looks good to go."

A few minutes later, a red-headed woman walked into the room. Her face was partly obscured in the dim light. All the three of them could see was her smile. "Hello," she said warmly. "I'm Monica. I was told to report to this room."

"Yeah," Dean answered. "I was wondering what happened to the person who was last in this room."

Monica's smile widened. "Yes. The most wonderful thing happened. A few days ago, there was a patient in here with kidney disease. One night, he pressed the call button and told the nurse that he felt completely better. So, we checked his kidneys, and both of them were perfectly healthy. It was a miracle."

"And what do you think _caused_ this 'miracle?' " Dean asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"It was the grace of God," she answered simply.

"The grace of God. Right_._ How silly of me,_" _Dean answered. "Hey, you mind telling me what that stain is on the bed?"

"What stain?" Monica asked, walking towards it. As she reached the middle of the room, Dean threw down his lighter. A circle of flames erupted, illuminating her face. "What the hell?" Dean said immediately, shock in his voice. "Roma Downey? Roma frickin' Downey?"


End file.
